So this is how a baby controls her parents...

Over the past nine weeks, Bryan and I have been congratulating ourselves on our gem of a baby. So quiet, so calm, so amiable. She's slept in her own bed since the night we brought her home. We've been working on getting her to fall asleep on her own, but at least she sleeps in her own bed, we've been telling ouselves. Well God must have heard and determined enough is enough. Day three of our own production of Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde continued last night as Evie went to the mat with us over bedtime. She had been pretty fussy all day, and I was getting pretty tired. Around 6pm, things really started to get bad. She's been struggling with colic and reflux, and every night is a little tough for a few hours. I feel horrible for her when she starts arching her back, pulling up her legs and crying in discomfort. Usually we spend this time walking up and down the street, rocking her, bouncing her, anything we can think of to help with the reflux. Well last night, after a full day of kvetching and no nap, I informed Bryan that a car ride was in order. To my dismay, it did not help. She would stop crying when we were going fast...just like the bus in "SPEED," we risked explosion if we went under 55 miles per hour, but after a while that didn't even help. So we returned home after two hours of crying, with a still very awake and very annoyed baby. It was now 8:45pm. I marched her upstairs to our room, sat on the bed and fed her. She ate. Her eyes were heavy. After 15 minutes, I burped her, and tried to give her a little more. She wasn't interested. So I rubbed her back another minute or so, kissed her, and layed her in her bed. I turned on the baby monitor and came downstairs. It was a mere matter of minutes before the crying started. Slow at first, then it escalated to a piercing, "someone is maiming me," kind of cry. I let her cry for 5 more minutes, and it only got worse and worse. So I went in, picked her up, rocked her, kissed her, sang to her. She quieted down, so I layed her back in her bed. She screamed. I left her a few more minutes...the crying only got worse. So I picked her up and tried to console her, but she didn't stop crying. Bryan came in after a few more minutes, she was still crying unconsolably. Even he could not get her to calm down. Over the next few hours, Bryan and I tried everything we could think of. We walked with her, we rocked her, we layed her by herself, we just held her, bounced her, put her in her swing, took off her jammies, put them back on, changed her diaper, just for the principle of the matter. I tried feeding her a little more, she screamed even worse. Nothing stopped the horrible crying. By this point, I was ready to take her to the hospital, certain she was having some horrible reaction to the shots from Tuesday. She has been cranky, but never like this. We took her temperature, and the thermometer said she didn't have a fever. But she felt warm to me, so I decided we should give her a bath, since she always loves her baths. This was a stroke of genius. She happily splashed, and kicked and cooed in delight. Bryan and I sat in the bathroom, both of us resting one hand on Evie, the other under our own heads, which were laying on the side of the tub. It was 11:45, we were exhausted. We let her splash in her tubby for quite a while, until she started to finally act sleepy. We pulled her out, put her in a new, cooler pair of jammies, and gently played with her on the changing table. She cooed, she smiled. She was back to happy, amiable baby. But then we picked her up and carried her back to our room, where her bassinet is. She was okay. She acted hungry. It had been over two hours since her last feed, so I pulled out an utter and placed her in position. She started screaming worse than she had all night. I put away the utter, and tried to console her. No. I handed her back to Bryan, he tried to console her. No. Her scream had escalated from a scream of frustration, inconsolable crying, to a scream of pain. She looked and acted like she was physically in pain. I was certain we'd need call the pediatrician and take her to the hospital. I handed her back to Bryan; he was convinced she was okay, since she was fine in the bathtub, and didn't stat crying until we brought her back in our room. So he carried her into her own room, to see if that would make a difference. It did not. So he came back to our room and he layed down on the bed with her in his arms...something we had both tried earlier with no success, but this time it was magic. He layed on his back, and held her in his arm, snuggled up in the crook of his elbow. We gave her a paci, and this time, she didn't reject it. The two of them layed there for another hour, until she finally stopped crying, and then slowly, but surely, she drifted off to sleep. I left her alone for another 30 minutes, just for good measure, and then I lifted her out, and layed her down in her bed...she did not stir. I layed down next to my sleeping husband, and silently rejoiced. Apparently, not silently enough. She was screaming within 15 minutes. I picked her up and tried to console her. Bryan woke up and informed me that tonight was not the night to teach her to sleep on her own. He layed her back down next to him, and she went right back to sleep. Around 3am, when I knew she was really, really out, I layed her back in her bed, and she slept until 6. She's happy as a little clam today.